


Good at Ordinary

by allyndra



Category: The Chronicles of Chrestomanci - Diana Wynne Jones
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 10:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2809685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyndra/pseuds/allyndra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes adventures are very quiet things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good at Ordinary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cynassa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynassa/gifts).



One.

Honestly, Millie wouldn't have chosen to return to Series 7, given free choice. But after he'd fetched her home from Stallery, Gabriel de Witt had taken her aside. With concern and sincerity nearly glowing from his lined, grey-ish face, he'd said, "You must promise me, my dear, that you shan't run away to some strange world again next time you have troubles." Millie had promised, and so her choices were rather limited. But, she reasoned, Series 7 _wasn't_ a strange world. She'd been there before, and as Conrad was at Chestomanci Castle now, his home seemed almost to belong to them. 

Really, running away to Series 7 again hardly counted as running away at all, to Millie’s way of thinking. And this time she made sure that she could contact Christopher while she was away, so no one was likely to rush after her.

Fay had pressed her telephone number into Millie’s hand after the excitement with all of the magic and imposters and wicked uncles had died down, so Millie rang her from a public phone box once she arrived in Ludwich.

“Are you really in town? How smashing, darling! Only I’ve got an audition at three, and it’s nearly half one now. I don’t suppose …” Fay trailed off.

And that was how Millie turned up at an audition for a three episode run of “Dukes of the Loch” They were casting several roles, and she was ushered into a room with other ordinary-looking girls and handed a brief script. She nearly giggled when she looked at the lines on the page. It was a scene of an overbearing lord and his wallflower daughter. Honestly, all she had to do was picture Gabriel opposite her, and she breezed through the audition. 

Fay was nearly giddy as she led Millie back to the small flat she shared with three other young actresses. “Too funny, you being the Honorable Miss Kester and me being Lady Grayson! I say,” she paused just inside the flat, her coat dangling from on shoulder, “You’ll need a stage name.”

“What’s wrong with the name I have,” Millie asked, trying not to sound too defensive. She liked her name. She’d chosen it herself, and sometimes when she woke from dreams of jingling bracelets and drifting clouds of incense, she would repeat it to herself in the dark of her bedroom. Chanting, “Millie, I’m Millie now,” under her breath was no odder than many of the habits she’d been exposed to in school dorms. 

Fay finished shrugging out of her coat and hung it on a peg on the wall. “There’s nothing wrong with your name,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with Francine Mona  
ghan, either. That’s my real name. Fay Marley sounds much more like a star, though, doesn’t she?” 

Millie was unconvinced. Fay dropped to the sofa in one corner of the tiny living room and patted the cushion next to her. “Let’s think. Millie … Millicent …”

“It’s just Millie,” Millie insisted.

“Hush, darling. No judgment while we’re brainstorming.” 

*

When Millie’s first episode aired, she was billed as Penny Bright. After her run on “Dukes of the Loch,” Penny Bright got two adverts, one for washing up fluid and one for a new style of shoelace. She even had a background role as an office worker in a one of those suspense films that involve a lot of sneaking about in file room. It seemed that there was a great demand for an actress with a quick mind, an unremarkable appearance, and a willingness to work for low wages. 

When she was cast on “Truest Love,” a dating program, she expected it to be much like any other acting job she’d had. Her role was simple to the point of dullness. Apparently romantic often required uninvolved bystanders. The trouble was finding uninvolved bystanders who could also take direction, repeat takes, and put in long hours. The director had chosen to just cast actors for the lot. 

Millie was serving tea to a café full of other actors when she felt it the magic pressing on the edges of her mind. It was a clumsy feeling, like having one’s toes trod upon on public transport. She surreptitiously surveyed the café under the guise of fetching more scones, until she was certain of the source of the magic. It was a well-dressed man sitting near the front of the café, at a table that received plenty of light from the wide windows plenty of focus from the three television cameras – the man vying for the affections of the young lady seeking “Truest Love.”

Millie tried to keep her temper, she really did. But just as she offered milk to another uninvolved bystander (whom Millie recognized as a very minor henchman from a spy film she’d seen last week), the clumsy, toe-treading magic grew even rougher and more forceful. It was nearly battering now, and Millie wasn’t even the target of it. She glanced at the date table out of the corner of her eye, and saw the “Truest Love” girl sway forward, her hand reaching helplessly to caress the man’s chin, and well. Millie just snapped. 

She carried her tea tray across the café, dodging the camera operators and a very determined PA, until she reached the date table. Feet settled, shoulders square, she lifted a tea pot and carefully, neatly poured its contents on the man’s lap. The man screeched, his magic fading, and the PA stepped forward with a look of outrage on her face. But really, her outrage didn’t come near to matching Millie’s own. 

“Using magic on others without their consent is the very lowest, basest … _yuckiest _thing you can do with it,” Millie declared. The man was blinking angrily at her, and the look of righteous indignation on his face made Millie even angrier. She set the tea pot down and dumped a sugar bowl right on his head. “And trying to force someone to love you! Why I can’t think of a surer sign that you just aren’t worthy of love at all. You should be ashamed of yourself, and you _will_ be reported for misuse of magic and criminal coercion.”__

__The “Truest Love” girl had been blinking back to full awareness since the first drop of tea had hit, and now she seemed herself again. She leaned across the table and slapped the man right across his sugary face. Then she glanced at the cameras and the staring uninvolved bystanders and burst into tears._ _

__Millie was sacked, but the episode was the highest rated “Truest Love” ever. She headed back to Series 12 feeling quite satisfied with herself and willing to face the absurdities of her dorm-mates._ _

__**_ _

__Roger and Julia are pulling faces at one another across the table, and Cat is frowning thoughtfully at his menu. Janet is kicking her heels against her chair and staring aimlessly out the window. Christopher and Conrad are making what are probably snide jokes to one another in undertones. Really, it’s one of the nicest family evenings out Millie can remember, and she’s so glad they decided to come visit Conrad on holiday this year._ _

__A hesitantly clearing throat draws everyone’s attention. The way Roger and Julia’s faces slip immediately out of grotesque moues is actually quite humorous, and Millie wishes she could capture these moments. They’re growing up so fast. She glances at the throat-clearer, expecting yet another slightly agog magic-user. Christopher seems to gather them wherever he goes. Instead, it’s a woman a few years older than Millie, with her own child in tow. She’s staring at Millie with shining eyes._ _

__“Is it – yes, it is you! Oh, Miss Bright, I’ve always admired you so much!” the woman says. Her cheeks are flushed, and she looks more delighted to see Millie than anyone Millie can recall. “You never received the roles you were due. Oh, the girls at my whist night won’t believe it. We re-watch your episode of “Truest Love” sometimes when we need to, um, let off steam. Would you please sign my napkin for me?” She proffers a cloth napkin, matching the ones on their own table._ _

__Now not only her own family are staring, but diners at neighboring tables as well. Millie merely smiles graciously and fetches a pen from her reticule. “To whom should I make it out?” she asks._ _

__“Dorothea Ipswich, thank you so much,” the woman gushes. With a swirl of her pen, Millie scrawls across the napkin, “To Dorothea with love and tea! Penny Bright”._ _

__Dorothea and her bewildered son leave after only a few more minutes of admiration. Millie smiles calmly at her family. “Be sure to add a bit to our bill to cover the cost of the napkin,” she tells Christopher._ _

__Christopher raises an eyebrow at her. “Anything we should know, my dear?” he asks mildly._ _

__“She just appreciates my way with a tea pot,” Millie says. Her smile stays level and unobtrusive. She’s always been good at ordinary._ _

__

__***_ _

__Two._ _

__It wasn’t that Millie didn’t _want_ to go to University. It was simply that she didn’t want to go to University yet. _ _

__“A gap year?” Gabriel said querulously. “What on earth will you do? I haven’t the time to devote myself to your magical education and care.”_ _

__Millie absolutely did not roll her eyes at Christopher, who was lounging against the Gabriel’s desk. As though Gabriel had ever devoted himself to Millie’s care. Or her magical education, for that matter. She may be an enchantress, but her power had never attracted his attention much._ _

__“Certainly not,” she told him firmly. “I shall rent a small cottage and live on my own for the year. No need for you to stir yourself at all.” She was quite looking forward to it. She had never in her life lived on her own. It sounded like an adventure._ _

__“Rent?” Gabriel demanded. “With what funds?”_ _

__Again, the urge to roll her eyes was nearly overwhelming. She was aware now, even if she hadn’t been at the time, of just how much money Mother Proudfoot had given him for her upkeep. “I’ve secured a position in town,” she told him. “So, if there are no other objections?”_ _

__Gabriel harrumphed a bit, and made noises about chaperones, but in the end Millie got her way. Few people seemed to notice how often Millie did get her way. The one who did was Christopher, who watched the entire exchange with a smirk on his face. Once Gabriel dismissed her and looked back down at his books, Millie caught Christopher’s gaze and this time she did roll her eyes._ _

__“And you! Stop leaning on my desk!” Gabriel snapped. Millie giggled as she left the study. Behind her, Christopher sighed dramatically._ _

__Perhaps she would miss some things about living surrounded by others._ _

__*_ _

__Millie had been engaged as a cook at a little bistro two towns away from Chrestomanci Castle. She had got the job through the simple expedient of cheating. She’d had cookery lessons for years at school after school, but that hardly prepared her for the speed and pressure of cooking in a restaurant, even a small country restaurant. But she wasn’t an enchantress for nothing._ _

__With a flip of her wrist, Millie settled a pair of eggs onto a plate, next to a rasher of bacon and a slice of toast. Then she glanced at the ticket listing what had been ordered. In less than a blink, the food shifted to become trout and peas. She gave it an approving little nod and set it in the window for Abigail, the waitress. Then she turned back to her cooker and cracked another egg._ _

__*_ _

__Living alone was perhaps less fun than Millie had expected. At first she’d reveled in it. She could stay up late reading without anyone complaining of the light, and she could leave her bed rumpled without anyone forcing her to make it, and she could sing croakily to herself without anyone making bad jokes about losing their hearing. (Honestly, her voice wasn’t _that_ bad!)_ _

__But. There was no one but her cats to talk to when she was bored, and they weren’t the best conversationalists. There was no one to wake her when she overslept due to staying up late reading. There was no one to jolly her out of a bad mood or distract her with problems of their own. Millie was startled to realize that living alone could be lonely._ _

__Luckily she had her work. She didn’t get on terribly well with Edith, the red-faced senior waitress, but Abigail was lovely. She was a short woman with dark hair, skin and eyes who liked to giggle with Millie between orders. When Abigail looked especially harried by rude customers, Millie would slip sweets into her apron pocket. And when even transforming the food into other dishes started to seem like too much work for Millie, Abigail would whisper bits of gossip that she’d picked up in the dining room._ _

__One night Abigail finished her work while Millie was still doing the washing up. She nudged Millie with her shoulder until there was room for her at the wash basin. “So,” Abigail said, already up to her elbows in water, “you aren’t from here.”_ _

__Millie blew her hair out of her eyes, where it _would_ end up by the end of every workday. “No,” she admitted. “I’m from far away, actually.”_ _

__“Tell me about it?” Abigail asked. And though as a rule, Millie didn’t talk about her childhood, she found herself telling stories of hiding with cats and drawing in sacred texts and digging in carefully maintained gardens. She didn’t say the name Asheth, but it was more open than she’d been with anyone but Christopher in years. In return, Abigail told her about being the eldest of three girls and the only one left unmarried. She told Millie about her dreams to travel and about her love of music._ _

__In the scullery of the empty bistro, with water all down her front and hair in her eyes, Millie felt the pangs of loneliness slip away._ _

__**_ _

__“You have a letter, Lady Chant,” Marianne says, stepping smartly into the drawing room. Marianne has a tendency to be just the slightest bit officious, but with such good intentions that it’s more amusing than annoying. “The post just came.” She looked at the letter in her hand as she crossed the room. “From right far away!” she says. “Who do you know in Sophia?”_ _

__“It’s my friend Abigail,” Millie says with a smile. “She was my first really real friend, other than Christopher. Like you and Cat.”_ _

__Watching Marianne nod seriously, standing there in her neat pinafore, Millie suddenly felt restless. “Come along to the kitchen with me,” she said, laying aside her letter and rising from the sofa. She would read it through later, where there was no one to witness her girlish giggles._ _

__“But I’m to have magic lessons,” Marianne protested._ _

__“And I’ll teach you magic. You’ll love it,” Millie promised. “Now, how do you feel about cooking eggs?”_ _

__***_ _

__Three._ _

__Millie wasn’t having doubts about marrying Christopher. She couldn’t imagine her life without him, and that seemed to be a fairly good basis for a marriage. Not to mention, he was quite handsome, even if he was developing a distressing fondness for ornate dressing gowns. No, she wasn’t having any doubts at all. She just needed a bit of time away before she swore before a god she wasn’t sure she believed in and Asheth (whom she absolutely did) to love, honor, and comfort Christopher for the rest of their lives._ _

__So if international magical emergencies could ever be said to be convenient, this one certainly was._ _

__“We wouldn’t ask if it weren’t of the utmost importance,” Mr. Heanter insisted. He was an official at the Ministry, important enough to be trusted with the information he had just laid out before them, and insignificant enough to send on a recruitment errand._ _

__Christopher gave him a bored, careless shrug. “Mr. Heather,” he said vaguely, “surely you’ve plenty of agents of your own.”_ _

__“It’s Heanter,” he corrected in a quick, annoyed voice. “And yes, we have. But that’s the trouble. Our agents are _known_. These mafiosa,” he sneered as he said the word, “have too much information for any of our agents to successfully infiltrate them. And most mages with the power necessary to take on the job are, quite frankly, too flashy to be at all effective.” He eyed Christopher’s purple brocade dressing gown with distaste._ _

__Millie knew she should consider this carefully. She should go over the dangers, and she should discuss this with Christopher. She should absolutely not be rash._ _

__“I’ll do it!” she said._ _

__“You will?” Heanter asked. “That is, yes. Of course you will! Thank you, Miss DeWitt!”_ _

__Mille stood and straightened her skirts. “Shall we be off, then?” Mr. Heanter looked confused at her rush, but Christopher did not. Millie knew that she’d have to let him sulk at her extensively when she returned._ _

__*_ _

__Millie was a truly excellent spy. Her magical powers were nearing their height, and she had a knack for using them in subtle, unexpected ways. Moreover, she looked (as she had been told far, far too often) so unassuming that she blended into the background. Had she thought about it, Millie would have expected that spying would be considerably more exciting than this._ _

__“Another memo for you to type up, love,” her boss said, dropping the paper onto her desk. Cyril Tingew was a thin man with a pale complexion and disturbingly bushy eyebrows. Millie wondered if he’d cultivated them on purpose to make himself seem more intimidating. “Three typed copies, all delivered to my office within the half hour, burn the original.” He rattled it off rapidly, but Millie scarcely needed the instructions. They were always the same._ _

__“Yes, sir,” she said meekly. Ducked her head as she pulled the memo toward her and then slipped a piece of paper into her typing machine. By limiting her time, Mr. Tingew made sure she didn’t have time to make extra copies. He always checked the grate to be sure that the original had been burnt, and there was no way for Millie to leave her little secretarial annex without passing his office door. If she had been a non-magical spy, she would have been stymied. And as she knew that the paper had been spelled against magical copying, most mages would have been similarly helpless. But Millie had noticed, through careful checking, that the _ink_ hadn’t been spelled, and so that’s what she worked with, carefully copying each loop and line and sending them to the blank sheet of paper waiting in an office across the city. All while typing three perfect copies of the memo in well under the thirty minute time limit. _ _

__Yes, Millie was not only an excellent spy, but an exceptional secretary._ _

__*_ _

__When the evidence had all been gathered and the Ministry had enough to not only arrest, but to convict Tingew and his associates of murder, profiteering, magic trafficking, and conspiracy to commit treason, Millie was offered the chance to be part of the arrest operation. She declined. Instead, she smiled politely as all of Tingew’s cohort gathered in the conference room for a meeting, made sure they had coffee enough, and then closed the door behind them. She kept right on smiling as she gathered her things and tidied her desk. She left everything behind in perfect order. She thought she saw the police and Ministry officials converging as she left the building and transported herself away, but she really didn’t pay close attention._ _

__She needed to get home; she had a sulking to attend to._ _

__**_ _

__No one ever asks about Millie’s time as a spy. That’s because she was a very good spy._ _


End file.
